


Washed Away

by sleeponrooftops



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2008-06-13
Updated: 2008-06-13
Packaged: 2017-10-31 08:03:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/341801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleeponrooftops/pseuds/sleeponrooftops
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hermione wanted it to end so badly. She wanted all the hurt to go away. She wanted it to end. She had to get away. She needed to get away. And then, her life was saved all too quickly just like it always happened.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It was over before it ever began.

 

At least, that’s how Hermione saw it.  The minute she opened the mirror, she knew it was all over.  She knew everything would go downhill fast.  She knew how quick it would happen.  And still, she opened the mirror and fished around through her products until she found one of the extra tops for her razor.  She fingered the small thing, her breath catching in her throat.  Slowly, painfully, she eased the blade out of the piece and swallowed hard as she placed the rest of it with a shaking hand on the sink counter.  She traced her index finger around the blade, gasping when it cut her finger accidentally.  And then everything came flooding back.  Oxygen flew back into her lungs as stars appeared before her eyes and she gripped the blade.

 

\--

 

Hermione sat begrudgingly in the Heads’ compartment, her body rocking with the familiar movement of the scarlet train.  Her curly chocolate hair fell in front of her face as she kept her eyes fixed on her fidgeting fingers.  Her hands were in her lap and her legs crossed as soft tears ran down her cheeks unchecked.  Her mind was blank, and her features completely devoid of all emotion.  She hated crying.  It was such a weak movement.  But she couldn’t help it.  The pain was unbearable.  It was at such a climactic point and she couldn’t do anything to make it stop.  It spiked again and she let out a scream, clenching her fingers into fists, her nails digging awfully into her palms.  She could feel her arms absolutely burning, and her sore limbs aching from the last bout of her convulsions.  The pain subsided for the moment and she unfurled her fingers, her breath escaping her as she saw her bloody palms.  But, as it always did, she was able to breathe again too quickly and she felt dizzy all over again.

 

The compartment door slid open and Hermione tried to acknowledge it, but she was frozen stiff.  Her palms were open in her lap and she was staring at them, her tears never ceasing.  The itching, the terrible burning began to creep over her pale skin again as she drew in a long, shaky breath and lifted her hands just in time.  She saw the ruffle of a robe and then someone sat in the opposite corner as her, muttering something to no one in particular.  A cold draft seemed to have swept through the room as Hermione lifted her hands and wiped her eyes and cheeks with the backs of her hands.  She wiped her palms on her robes before bringing her eyes to meet the gaze of Draco Malfoy.

 

The beauty and grace of him was undeniably flawless.  Hermione felt that familiar feeling in her stomach; that sick feeling of her stomach muscles clenching and turning over painfully.  He let a smirk flitter onto his thin lips, twisting the corners up as he lifted his blonde eyebrows at her, they disappearing beneath his loose blonde hair.  His cold blue eyes bore into hers and she couldn’t stand it.  She looked away and bit back another shriek as the pain hit a high point again.  She could feel the chills coming, the shaking of her very bones threatening to plague her.  She had to get away.

 

‘You don’t look so good, Granger,’ his icy voice hissed, and Hermione felt like everything seemed to just shatter right then and there.

 

Without a word, she bolted upright in her seat, jumped to her feet, and sprinted out the sliding door.  She ran down the corridor furiously with tears streaming down her face.  Why was she doing this to herself?  What point did it hold?  What consequence was worth this hurt?  Hermione knew the answer, even so.  She would feel better once the drug seeped through her bloodstream fully and the effects of self-mutilation sunk in.  She would be fine soon enough.  It would get better with time, as she became more experienced.  She fed herself these obvious lies constantly, but she continued to ignore the hidden truth within these lies and she persisted to hurt herself endlessly.

 

She reached an empty compartment within time and quickly slipped inside, locking the door behind her.  She cast a quick silencing charm before falling to her knees and letting out a bloodcurdling scream that left her throat burning severely.  She tore her robe off and rolled up her sleeves viciously, rubbing her knuckles into her arms and rocking back and forth.  She could feel it working, but it was tearing her up inside.  She couldn’t stand it.  She had to get away.

 

Hermione wrapped her fingers tightly around her forearms, screaming again as the pain spiked again.  It was maddening.  Then it all stopped.  So abruptly that Hermione swayed slightly and had to grip the seats to stop her from falling forward.  But even that poised as just another obstacle.  Her shaky arms gave way and she fell to the carpeted floor, groaning as she wasn’t met with cold tile.  She needed something icy.  The heat was enflaming her whole body.  She was going to burn to death; she was sure of it.

 

Her body shook involuntarily as the spasms overtook her and she felt it running through her, screaming to break free.  She could the feel poison intoxicating her again.  She could feel the scars splitting in agony.  She could see the light.  A particularly awful convulsion caused her to flip over on her back, and with unfocused and numb fingers, she slid her wand out of her pocket.  She needed to get away.  Then the world went black.

 

\--

 

Hermione woke up in the same spot on the floor of the compartment, sweat beading at her hairline and her breathing shallow.  She was still alive.  She felt over her body, a small bit of happiness blooming inside her for the briefest second as she realized that she was completely solid and everything around her was real.  She was real.  She was alive.  Then the happiness died as she slowly pushed herself up and her current situation flew back at her, and she groaned in disbelief.

 

She sunk against one of the seats and sighed heavily, closing her eyes.  She sat there, steadying her breathing and emptying her mind as she had so many times.  One hand was over her accursed heart while the other lie on her thigh, the beating within her chest calming her slowly.  The pain was slowly being doused by her serenity.  She moved her hand up on her thigh and moaned audibly as that feeling crept into her stomach again.  Her hands flew to the carpeted floor on either side of her as she let her eyes roll into the back of her head.  She felt her body completely relinquish all tension as the unmistakable feeling of pleasure overtook her.  The feeling was incredible.  She felt every emotion in her body reach its peak as she moaned again and the light exploded within her.

 

Sometimes, when the pain became too hard to conquer, that feeling crept onto her.  She didn’t know how she could experience it as she had never been in such bliss in her life as she felt at this moment and a few other rare precious times.  In the middle of the night only, when the pain shook her body and then subsided to the pleasure, she whispered those deadly words, ‘I want to be loved.  I want to feel this love for real.  I want to know it, to embrace it, to capture it.’  But then the magic would die and she would be thrown back into reality sharply again.  And then the tears would come and she would always try to feed back to that pleasure, to that face that haunted her but that she couldn’t place, to those eyes she dove into and let herself be ravished by their intensity.

 

This time the ecstasy left as quickly as it came and Hermione was left panting and feeling exhausted.  Slowly, she pried herself away from the seat and stood shakily, remembering her duties.  She had to patrol the hallways with Draco; the ever-malicious Draco Malfoy.  Oh, how she despised him and all his essence.  And oh, how he showed up at the most inopportune moments.

 

As she slid open the door, she revealed none other than Draco himself.  He looked her up and down, his smirk appearing quickly.  He gave her a knowing look and her cheeks flushed as she realized what a wreck she must look.

 

‘Who’s the lucky guy?’ he questioned smoothly, poking his head into the compartment.

 

Hermione lost her breath at their closeness, shocked at how his lean body arched over hers without even touching her.

 

‘So?’

 

‘There is no _lucky guy_ , Malfoy,’ she spat, her anger bubbling within her.

 

The combined emotions made her feel faint and she stumbled slightly, her hand fluttering to her temple.  Draco grunted in disbelief before giving a sudden cry.

 

‘Getting it on with Potter and then having him sneak off under his cloak then?  I always thought you’d manage to pull him away from his pig of a boyfriend.  Who would’ve known he’d switch sides for a Mudblood, though.  That’s quite the accomplishment.  Getting a vibrantly gay boy to swing on the other field,’ Draco hissed menacingly as Hermione glared violently at him through her sweat and agony.

 

‘Or were you just pleasing yourself?  That’s quite pathetic, Granger.  You know, come to think of it, I can’t imagine you getting it on with any guy, Potter included.  You’re such a prude that you wouldn’t know the first thing when it comes to a good fuck.’

 

‘SHUT UP!’ Hermione screamed, ignoring her pain.

 

She pushed it to the back of her mind to worry about later as she shoved Draco hard in the chest and he staggered backward, unsuspecting of her strength.

 

‘DON’T TALK SHIT ABOUT ME LIKE I’M NOT EVEN HERE!’

 

‘So you’re a slut then?’

 

‘DON’T PUT WORDS IN MY MOUTH!’

 

‘No… no, I can put something else there,’ Draco suddenly whispered, taking a broad stride and coming close to Hermione.

 

‘Even as a pureblood Malfoy, I have to admit that I find you attractive.  Anyone would, what with that vivacious temper.  That could be quite useful in certain… circumstances,’ he finished, running a soft finger along her cheek longingly.  She leaned into his touch as she felt something stirring within her.

 

‘Draco…’ she gasped, feeling her knees shaking.

 

He put a finger to her parted lips and slowly leaned forward, his finger sliding down and joining his hand as it traveled agonizingly leisurely down her side.

 

‘You want me,’ he breathed, his breath hot against her lips.

 

‘You want me so bad,’ he continued as he slipped a hand up her shirt and let it go up her front, tracing the bottom of her purple lace bra.

 

‘You want to know what it’s like to be with me.’

 

At the last moment, he moved his lips away from hers and pulled his hand out.  He quickly turned and shot a hex at the student watching them with wide eyes.  The student was smashed into the ceiling and his head collided painfully before he dropped to the floor awfully.

 

‘I want to show you something.’

 

Draco put his hands to Hermione's waist and eased her backward, walking with her and closing the door on his way.

 

‘Lie down.’

 

Hermione did as told and laid down between the seats as he inclined.  He got down next to her, making sure not to touch her.

 

‘Keep your eyes fixed on mine even if I break gaze.’

 

She nodded slightly, her breathing coming in shallow gasps.

 

Draco held his hand above her neck and kept it there for a few moments before curling four of his fingers and letting his index finger stay slightly bent.  He traced it down between her breasts and she shuddered slightly, not comprehending how she could feel him without him touching her.  He spread open his palm over her chest and she gasped, feeling the pressure.  He descended down her midsection, over her stomach, and dipped in between her thighs.  He continued down her legs before he lifted one of his own and straddled her waist, still not touching her.  He put his hands on either side of her head and bent down, his lips braced over her neck.  He let out a breath and she let a small, almost inaudible cry pass through her lips.

 

‘You want me, Granger.  And you can’t have me.’

 

Gaping, Hermione watched as Draco lifted himself off of her, brushed himself off, and then left the compartment without another word.  She stumbled up after him, hexed the student again as he was getting up, and then ran after Draco.  She caught him by the arm and spun him around.

 

‘What was that all about?’ she demanded, her voice low but her temper rising.

 

She bore her deep brown eyes into his icy blue ones.  Something new arose, but before she could see the emotion fully or figure out what it was, Draco lowered his gaze and the shadow of his hair hid his face.

 

‘Don’t bother me with your antics, you filthy Mudblood,’ he growled at his feet before stalking off in the opposite direction, leaving Hermione more confused than ever.


	2. Chapter 2

As the train rolled to a screeching stop, Hermione returned to the Heads’ compartment and entered without a word to Draco whatsoever.  She glanced at him once, but he was lost in his thoughts.  Slowly, she gathered all her luggage on the seat, knowing someone would come get it and bring it to the castle like always.

 

‘Draco,’ she snapped, beginning to feel irritated as he continued to ignore her.

 

‘What?’ he shot right back, causing Hermione to jump slightly in surprise.  She hadn’t expected such a forceful response.

 

‘Why did you do that?’

 

‘Do what?’

 

‘Back there in that compartment?  On the floor?’

 

‘Did it mess with your head?’

 

‘Yes.’

 

‘Are you pissed at me now?’

 

‘Obviously!’

 

‘That’s why.’

 

Leaving Hermione to gape rudely, Draco pulled his robes around him and stalked out of the compartment.

 

‘Hey ‘Mione!’ Ron sang as he waltzed inside and put on a bright smile.

 

Hermione slowly closed her mouth, still trying to comprehend everything.  She wrapped her arms around her torso, shivering slightly.

 

‘You alright, Hermione?’ Harry questioned softly, rubbing her arms.

 

He was the only one that knew about everything that had been going on lately.  So Ron wouldn’t suspect anything, Hermione locked her sad brown eyes with his beautiful emerald ones and he nodded.

 

 ‘We’ll talk later.’

 

He pulled her into a quick, tight hug before motioning for her and Ron to follow him out.  Together, the trio stepped off the train and headed toward the carriages.

 

‘Granger!’

 

Hermione turned sourly at her surname, recognizing Draco’s smooth voice all too familiarly.  He reached her, not even bothering to look at Harry and Ron.

 

‘That brute Hagrid can’t get the first years across the lake.  Dumbledore’s asked for us to do it.’

 

Hermione nodded slowly, ignoring the insult on Hagrid.  She followed Draco over to where Hagrid usually stood and watched as he climbed atop a rock sitting near the shore.

 

He set the tip of his wand lightly against his throat and hissed, ‘ _Sonorus_.’

 

He cleared his throat, and nodded satisfactorily as a few students jumped at the noise.

 

‘First years over here!’ he boomed, grinning and obviously enjoying the power he obtained with the spell.

 

Soon, all those second year and above were seated amongst the carriages and being pulled away by the Threstrals while Draco and Hermione made sure the large flock of first years stayed with them.

 

‘We’ll be traveling over the lake by the boats.  I would ask that none of you try to tip them or put any limbs outside the boats, please.  The Giant Squid is easily provoked and not very nice.  Thank you.  _Quietus_.’

 

Once he climbed down from the rock, the two Heads’ directed the nervous students toward the boats where they climbed in with frightened whispers and awful wide-eyed stares at the water.

 

‘Good going, Malfoy!  Now they’re all going to fear the lake until doom perishes them!’

 

‘So harsh, Granger.  I think we have to get in the lead boat.’

 

‘One would imagine.’

 

Draco stopped helping the students in at her tone and stepped right through the still-swarming first years in one fell stride.

 

‘Just because you’ve got it so bad for me and you can’t have me doesn’t give you the right to harass me.’

 

‘And what do you do to me everyday, you lying ferret?’

 

‘Stop calling me that!’

 

‘At least my words are true!’

 

‘I swear by the heavens, Hermione-’

 

‘Swear what?  Go ahead,’ she challenged, leaning in close to him.

 

She felt him inhale sharply as her lips just almost brushed against his.

 

‘You want it just as bad as I do.  So stop complaining,’ she hissed dangerously before stepping away with an evil grin playing upon her lips.

 

Making sure she kept his eyes on her, she slipped into one of the boats and cast him a glance, ‘Coming?’

 

He sent her one dagger-ridden glare before begrudgingly sitting in the boat with her and waving his wand at the shore.  All the boats sailed forward, rippling across the perfectly still black water.  Hermione stared longingly at it, her desires arising again.  She wanted so bad to just slip over and into the water, to be claimed by the depths and never seen again.  Unknowingly, her eyes rolled into the back of her head and suddenly she could feel the water all around her, suffocating her lungs.  As she choked, she felt at peace.  She was getting away… up until her arms burned and her lungs exploded with oxygen again.  She groaned out loud, but softly, and leaned forward, her body feeling heavy as her hair fell around her again.

 

‘Hermione?’

 

Her name sounded so bittersweet rolling off his tongue.  It was like a rare spice tainted with the beauty of a field of flowers.  But then the flowers warped and twisted into vines, wrapping themselves slowly around her bodice, squeezing her to death slowly.  She was so close, she was almost gone, and then she felt her stomach clench painfully and everything began spinning.

 

‘Hey!  Hermione!’

 

Spinning, spinning, blackness…

 

Draco leapt forward and caught Hermione just in time, his arms wrapping around her midsection as the very tips of her hair just touched the surface of the lake.  He hauled her back onto the boat, leaning her into him.  He carefully tucked her curly locks away and gazed down at the beauty and grace before him.  His finger shaking slightly, he traced the features of her façade, almost stopping as he reached her lips.  She was so different now.  Something had happened to her and she was just as cold and heartless as he _had been_.  But, that was exactly the problem.  That was how he _had been_.  As his parents continued to work harder and relentlessly for Lord Voldemort, his life began to make sense and he figured out what he wanted to do with himself.  The issue still stood with his father not knowing of his decision not to become a Death Eater, though.

 

His thoughts jerked away from all as the tip of his boat came in sharp contact with the opposite shore.

 

‘Do you need any help?’  Draco looked up at the small girl, smiling softly at her concerned expression.

 

The first years were pouring out onto the shore, but that one little girl took the time to come to him and make sure he got out okay.

 

‘What’s your name?’ Draco asked as he took the hand she offered.

 

He didn’t use her support much, but it was nice to have a hand to hold onto so he could concentrate on holding Hermione cradled in his arms.

 

‘Sara,’ she whispered shyly, scuffing her feet on the ground once he had touched base safely, ‘Sara Livingston.’

 

‘That’s a pretty name.  I am called Draco Malfoy.’

 

‘Is that your girlfriend?’  Sara pointed to the unconscious Hermione and Draco paused for the briefest moment, sighing.

 

‘Heavens no,’ he answered, trying to sound put-off, but failing miserably, ‘Her name is Hermione Granger.  We are the Heads of the school.  You see, there are Prefects which are fifth years, and there are two for every house.  There are always two seventh year Heads, however.’

 

‘That’s so cool.  I hope I get to be one of those someday.  What house are you in?’

 

‘Slytherin.’

 

‘I want to be in Slytherin.  My mum was and so was my dad.  What house is Hermione in?’ she continued, trying out the name slowly.

 

‘Gryffindor; the two rival houses.’

 

‘I heard you have to share a house yourselves.’

 

‘That’s true.’

 

By now, Draco had led the first years to the front steps of Hogwarts.  They carefully made their way through the large double doors and were just rounding the corner when Professor McGonagall came bustling toward them.

 

‘Oh, by the gods, it’s true!  Mr. Malfoy, is she quite alright?  What happened?’ she demanded skeptically, looking Hermione over.

 

‘She just passed out, professor,’ Draco replied calmly, ‘Shall I take her to see Madame Pomfrey?’

 

‘Yes, yes; she’s just around there.  I had her come out so she could tend to Miss Granger.  Alright then, first years, follow me!’

 

McGonagall hurried off while Draco turned another corner to find Pomfrey waiting patiently for them.

 

‘Have her stand up.  I’m sure it will be awkward enough that she fainted; we don’t want her getting all riled up for extra contact with the enemy,’ Pomfrey muttered absentmindedly.

 

‘I think she’s fine,’ Draco quickly reassured.

 

‘If you say so.’

 

Pomfrey quickly fed Hermione a potion and, almost instantly, she stirred.  Her hand immediately flittered to her head as she blinked her eyes open and looked up at Draco.

 

‘Don’t even tell me I’m not standing upright.’

 

‘Sorry?’

 

‘Put me down before I hex you.’

 

Although she spoke the words, a smile was quickly forming.  Draco returned the notion as Pomfrey clicked her tongue.

 

‘History right before me.  Miss Granger, Mr. Malfoy, run along now.  The feast will be starting soon.  You’ll want to get in there before the sorting.’  Pomfrey ran off then, her heels clicking viciously along behind her.

 

‘What happened?’ Hermione demanded as she and Draco made their way back toward the front entrance to the Great Hall.

 

‘You nearly fell in the lake on the way over.  I should be asking you the very question.’

 

‘I haven’t been feeling well lately.’

 

‘That makes two of us,’ Draco muttered resentfully, closing his dry eyes briefly.

 

Every part of him ached with the sores of the flu.  His parents had been so busy lately that they hadn’t paid any attention to their family affairs and all the maids were always off tending to them.  He had been forced to suffer without the potions he knew not of to make for his mother always whipped them up for him, and the last few bouts were still taking their toll on him.

 

‘Pardon?’

 

‘Nothing.  Never mind it.  May we go in, professor?’ he added in a louder voice as they came upon McGonagall.

 

‘I’m going in now, so slip in ahead of me and go along the walls.  Quickly now.’

 

Hermione and Draco swiftly swept through the doors, McGonagall sharp behind them.  They split to sit with their respective tables and were both instantaneously badgered about their whereabouts and the before company of one another whilst entering the Great Hall.

 

‘Alright, you and Malfoy are getting way too friendly already,’ Ron ridiculed as Hermione slowly sat down, still looking over at the Slytherin table.  Draco’s icy blue eyes were locked within her own and he was clearly ignoring the same questions she was being given.  Finally, they broke gaze and turned back to their friends.

 

‘I’m not becoming too friendly, Ronald.  We have to be civil, or we’ll kill each other.’

 

‘She has a point,’ Ginny muttered, giving Hermione a curious glance.  Hermione was quick to avoid it and instead looked up at Dumbledore as he stood and raised his arms.

 

‘Let the sorting… begin.’

 

McGonagall read off the names slowly after bringing out the stool and the sorting hat.  Sara was successfully sorted into Slytherin and she began to sit at the end of the table until Draco motioned for her to sit next to him.  Vincent Crabbe resentfully moved over to make room for the small first year and she sat with a smile.

 

They remained silent until the sorting was over and Dumbledore had stood up to make his annual speech, ‘Welcome, welcome back and welcome anew.  I see very many familiar faces which is always a good sign, but the ever wonderful new faces.  First years must note that the Dark Forest is _strictly_ forbidden.  To all students, curfew times have been changed and the security of the grounds and building has been increased for the threat that grows.  I expect that all Prefects received their letters over the holidays and I would hope that you will make you known and open to any student in need of help.  A round of applause for those fifth years chosen as Prefects please, and for those sixth year returning as Prefects,’ Dumbledore paused here to allow for a soft ripple of clapping hands before continuing, ‘And another for our two seventh year Heads this year: Mr. Draco Malfoy and Miss Hermione Granger.  They will be able to help any that seek it.  Congratulations,’ Dumbledore stopped again as the applause took place, ‘Now let the feast commence!’

 

The headmaster spread his arms wide and the golden plates were instantly filled with food down a line of the middle of the tables.  Chatter rose as students filled up their plates and goblets and ate and drank heartily.

 

‘Alright, Malfoy, stick ‘em out.  Let’s see what damage dear ole’ daddy has done to you,’ Blaise Zabini ordered with a grin.

 

‘Sorry guys; no mark,’ Draco responded shortly, not looking up as his friends gaped at him.

 

‘Has your father gone soft or something?  No mark?  That’s ridiculous,’ Crabbe said from beside Sara.

 

‘Look guys, it doesn’t really matter.  He’ll come around, I’m sure.’

 

Draco forced a fake smirk onto his lips as he poked wearily at his food.  He wasn’t in the mood for eating, but was painfully exhausted.

 

‘You alright there, Draco?’ Blaise questioned softly as Draco put a hand to his head and rubbed his temple slightly.

 

Draco nodded a bit, nibbling at a small piece of chicken.  Fortunately, as the night wore on, he managed to forget about his aches and sinuses and laughed along with his friends, eating and joking around.  Sara soon became his good friend as she continued to somehow be the life of the party.

 

Once everything had wound down and Dumbledore stood up again, Draco felt at least a little better.

 

‘Prefects, please direct your house to its common room.  Heads, please join me in my office.  You are dismissed for the evening.  Classes begin on Monday.’

 

There was a great bustle of movement as all the students rose and hurried out of the Great Hall, seeking the comfort of their four-poster beds.

 

Draco found Hermione quickly enough, chatting quietly with Harry and out of the way.  He approached her cautiously, happy that Harry acknowledged his presence before he had to.

 

‘I’ll talk to you later.  Don’t do anything stupid,’ Harry muttered before hugging Hermione tightly and then walking off.

 

‘Are you feeling better?  You look paler,’ Hermione commented as they made their way down a hall in search of Dumbledore’s office.

 

‘How did you know I didn’t feel well?’

 

‘You said you didn’t and tried to cover it up.  I catch little things, Draco.  Don’t underestimate me.’

 

‘I’m not.  So, are we using our first names now?’

 

‘Might as well.  You know, try to act civilized and all that.’

 

Draco let a small smile cross his features as he remembered the letter Dumbledore had sent him over the summer about his position as Head.  There had been many tips, clearly demanding that he not fight with Hermione.  After they spoke with Dumbledore about their duties, the location of the house, and once all questions were answered, the pair meandered around until they found the portrait of the four men playing cards, said the password ‘gillyweed’, and then entered the house.

 

It was extravagantly exquisite.  Soft baby blue curtains hung at the large bay window and across a few small others.  The stain-resistant white carpeted floor was home to a large sea cerulean sofa and two matching loveseats.  The set surrounded a beautiful wooden cocktail table, all before a lightly crackling fire.  There were two oval desks on separate sides of the room along with a huge cornered bookcase and an odd coat-rack with one too many extensions.

 

A deep azure strip of acquiescent carpet ran down each of the stairs leading to the dorms.  Behind the matching cobalt door was a king-sized bed complimented by green and silver sheets and pillows.  Everything was decorated according to Slytherin colors.  The same applied to that behind the white door, only to equal Gryffindor colors.

 

A single bathroom stood hidden behind a door nearly blending in with the wall around it, its location directly opposite the two rooms.  Within it was the simple layout of medium-sized round sink, fully body mirror, bust mirror, loo, clawed round bath, and glass-door shower.

 

‘It’s so incredible,’ Hermione gasped as she slowly descended the main stairs leading to the common room, ‘Can you believe this?’

 

‘It certainly is unexpected.  I’ve heard stories, but this surpasses them all.’

 

They stared around the place a little longer, trying out the furniture before Hermione declared her retirement.  As she slipped off behind the white door, Draco fell back on the sofa, groaning softly as he felt his headache slowly creeping back.  He’d have the chills within the hour and then his fever would return before his head would get congested and his stomach would tumble around unpleasantly.  Deciding not to ride it out in the open, Draco followed Hermione's lead and was soon sliding in between his silk sheets, his heavy and sore eyes shutting as he drifted off into sleep…


	3. Chapter 3

Hermione crept out of bed the next morning, yawning and shielding her eyes against the morning sun peeking through her golden curtains.  Stretching, she stepped onto the soft crimson carpet and looked around, smiling slightly as she took in her surroundings.  The movement felt almost unnatural as she hadn’t smiled in what felt like ages.  Sighing to herself, Hermione quietly slid into her slippers before draping her robe around her shoulders and heading out of her room.  She slowly descended the stairs, relishing in the place around her.  Every bit of it made her lips curl constantly.  It was just so peaceful.  That was, up until the moment that Hermione heard a soft groan followed by something rustling.

 

She carefully made her way over to the sofa and upon looking over the back of it, found Draco lying on his stomach with his face pressed into the pillow and a blanket thrown haphazardly over him.  Not understanding why, Hermione crossed to the front of the couch and squatted down beside it, gazing longingly at his beautiful visage.  Nearly everything was perfect about him.  His smooth, unblemished pale skin complimented his soft blonde hair falling over his closed blue eyes.  His thin, chaste lips mumbled something incoherent and Hermione sighed again, wanting so bad, for some odd reason, to be able to touch him without being ridiculed.

 

She lifted a slender finger and traced it along his jaw, resting her palm against his cheek.  He stirred a little and she quickly drew her hand back, but not before it had flittered to his forehead and pushed away his damp hair.  Once Hermione was sure Draco was still asleep, she placed her hand, back down, on his forehead again and gasped as she was met by his burning skin.  Come to think of it, as Hermione continued to stare at him, she noticed his nose was slightly red and his cheeks a little more flushed than usual.  Not to mention his eyes looked puffy and baggy.

 

His shoulders seemed to shake a little as he turned his face into the pillow and coughed softly before turning his nose out again and facing Hermione.  The blanket had slipped a little by now to reveal a naked Draco from the waist up.  Then the unmistakable happened as his eyeballs suddenly started moving beneath his lids and his eyes slowly fluttered open.  Hermione managed to scramble away from him in time and was just heading toward the bathroom when he sat up wearily and holding his head.

 

‘Oh, you’re up,’ Draco muttered, a yawn dragging his words.  Hermione turned back to him, her robe gathered tightly around her.  She nodded briskly, keeping her eyes on his.  ‘What’s wrong?  You seem anxious.’

 

‘What is wrong with you?’ she suddenly exploded, causing Draco to jump slightly as his eyes widened.

 

‘Pardon?’

 

‘You heard me!’

 

Hermione made to leave into the bathroom, but Draco was up so fast and at her side that she barely had time to think.  He gripped her arm, bringing them close, and she felt fear for the first time in a long while.

 

‘You will not scream at me for no reason and then think you can just stalk off.’

 

‘You can’t tell me what to do!’

 

‘What is going on with you?  Why are you so upset?’

 

‘Why do you care?  You’ve never cared before!  Why now?’  Hermione was near tears as she glared viciously at Draco.  He was at a loss for words.  He alone didn’t even know the answer to that question.

 

‘Hey!  Don’t touch her!’ Ron shouted as he came into the common room, running down the stairs.  Slowly, Draco released Hermione’s arm, his eyes confused as he tried to gather any kind of confirmation from her emotions.

 

‘Why now?’ she whispered.

 

Shaking his head, Draco turned the other way and headed off to his room, not bothering to get his blanket from the sofa.  As his door slammed, Ron stopped in front of Hermione and tried to gain her attention, but she was still staring after Draco.

 

‘Did he hurt you?’ Harry questioned, causing her to snap back to reality harshly.

 

‘No.  I’m fine,’ she gasped before disappearing behind the bathroom door.  Ron and Harry threw up their arms in defeat, and went to sit on the couch resentfully.

 

Hermione cast a vicious silencing charm on the bathroom before letting out an ear-splitting scream and falling to her knees, shaking.  Her robe slipped off her shoulders and she doubled over, wrapping her arms around her before falling over and lying on the cold tile.  She kicked off her slippers and pulled off her pants, throwing everything at the door when she finished.  She lay on her side on the tile, rocking back and forth slightly, trying to think of anything but her small bag in the mirror.

 

Finally, she couldn’t take it anymore and with a moan, she heaved herself up and clawed at the mirror, shoving it open and tossing things inside until she found her makeup bag.  She rummaged around in it until she found her razor and pill bottle.  She collapsed back on the floor, her breath hitching.  It was over before it ever began…

 

\--

 

Draco staggered into his room, slamming the door shut awfully after him.  He felt sick.  He stumbled again and fell to his knees, moaning as he felt the bile rising in his throat.  As it got worse, he pulled himself up and crashed his way toward the small bathroom with only a loo and sink.  He heaved the second he made it to the toilet, and continued to do so until he felt weak and empty.  But along with that bout of sickness had come the realization that he was at the end of his flu.

 

After his strength returned minimally, he fished around through his things until he found a pack of cigarettes and his lighter.  He lit one, and skillfully balanced it between his lips, drawing on it every so often as he got dressed.  Once his legs donned furiously ripped jeans and a black belt, he slipped into a Guns ‘n Roses shirt, slid his arms through a plain brown and white splashed jacket, and then headed out of his room sucking on his cig.

 

‘Why are you still here?’ he demanded as he fell down into one of the loveseats and released a puff of smoke from his mouth and nostrils.

 

He tapped the ashes onto the floor, and they immediately soaked into the carpet as Harry and Ron looked on disgustedly.

 

‘We’re here to see Hermione because that’s what friends do.  They hang out with each other,’ Ron snapped defiantly.  Draco just shook his head and took a long drag of his fag.

 

‘Whatever,’ he muttered, sighing heavily.

 

He still felt a little drowsy, but that would have to do for now.  It seemed the excruciating silent seconds ticked by agonizingly so, up until the point when Ron finally broke the ice, stuttering a little,

 

‘What’s taking her so long?’

 

‘I’ll go check up on her,’ Harry mumbled, rising from his seat.

 

‘Where are you going?’ Ron snapped as Draco rose and headed toward the main staircase.

 

‘Why do you care?’

 

Without waiting for a response, Draco ascended the stairs, grabbed his cloak, and departed from the House swiftly.  As he threw on his cloak and situated it, he walked along the hallway, his cigarette carefully balanced between his index and middle finger by his side.

 

‘Malfoy!  Hey!’ Blaise called as he ran toward his friend.

 

‘Zabini,’ Draco greeted, nodding his head as the two exited the castle and drifted through the grounds, retiring to their familiar spot by the lake, Draco returning the dying cig to his lips.  ‘How’s it go?’

 

‘Fine enough.  How’s the Mudblood?’

 

‘Bitchy, as expected.  Potter and Weasel found their way home in their den.’

 

‘If she wasn’t mixed, she’d be nicely available.’

 

Draco kept his silence, knowing he didn’t have to respond.  It was common knowledge that Blaise lusted after Hermione, and he felt the need to remind them on a weekly basis, sometimes daily.

 

‘You seem somewhat dry.  What’s up?’

 

‘Just thinking mostly.’

 

‘Liar.’

 

‘What’s it to you?’ Draco snapped, instantly feeling bad.  Blaise was his one close friend that he could tell anything to and he was pushing him away.

 

‘I’ve just got a lot on my mind right now,’ he added, softer this time.

 

‘I know what you mean.  My father is absolutely nuts right now.’  Draco nodded, feeling his walls slipping down.  Blaise always knew how to make him feel at ease.

 

‘So did your dad really refuse to have you brought in?’ Blaise asked after a while of silence, his voice barely above a whisper.

 

‘I refused.’

 

‘I never really saw you as the Death Eater type.  It’s too Lucius, not enough Draco.’

 

Draco smiled at this comment, remembering hours spent on comparisons and determinations not to end up like his father.  And then it happened all over again.  Draco piped up with the question of similarities and Blaise just grinned and responded on cue…


End file.
